


Playing For The Other Team

by KaiBlueOtaku



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Mulan (1998)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Canon Genderbending, Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Everyone Is Gay, First Time Blow Jobs, Gay, Gay Character, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Headcanon, Homophobia, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Insults, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Oral Sex, Other, Queer Character, Queer Themes, Safer Sex, Sex, Sorry Not Sorry, Stereotypes, Transgender, Trauma, Vaginal Sex, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 14:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19378777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaiBlueOtaku/pseuds/KaiBlueOtaku
Summary: Shang was the popular university football captain. Ping was the inept freshman who had just joined the team. They've got it bad for each other, but Ping's hiding a secret bigger than just his crush on Shang...  Modern University AU, Trans Male Mulan, the gay Disney smutfic oneshot that nobody asked for, see more specific CW's at beginning of work





	Playing For The Other Team

[CW homophobia, internalized homophobia, vague allusion to some sort of potential assault, gendered insults/genitalia terminology used as an insult, accidental outing of a transgender person, stereotyping, unsafe chest binding practices, oral sex, PIV (penis in vagina), consent, masturbation, safe sex, swearing

 

Ping is a pre-op transgender man in this fic. I use male-coded or neutral (non-female) terminology for his genitalia. He does engage in consensual PIV intercourse with Shang, in case that's triggering for anybody.

 

I may have screwed up some of the football references, i apologize if that's the case, i know fuckall about football, lol.]

  


The position of captain of the university football team was an honor reserved for only the most respected upperclassmen, who had excelled and shown superior proficiency in their preferred sport; students such as Shang.

 

Ping, however, had failed to show such a proficiency. He had shown quite the opposite actually, even in his short time on the team; he was blundering and ineffective, and Shang wondered why he was still here. It was clear that he'd been struggling the entire season, and the coach rarely put him on the field.  He wasn't built for football.

 

But what he lacked in skill, he made up double for in effort.  Shang could see that Ping was often frustrated or dejected, but still he tried with everything in him.  It was puzzling, and Shang had to admit to himself that he admired the freshman's tenacity.

 

And he didn't have a bad ass, either.

 

But, that was the sort of thing that Shang kept a tight lid on.  Being gay on a football team wasn't something well-received, in such a traditionally “manly” sport.

 

Still, he had taken particular interest in Ping.  He knew his motives weren't pure altruism. While he did in fact want to see the young man succeed, there was also a part of him that wanted to find any excuse possible to get close and spend more time with him.

 

So he pulled Ping aside at practices, trying to give him pointers on his technique, watching him, working with him at every opportunity to try to help him succeed, because it was so apparent that Ping wanted this more than anything.

 

After practice one day, Shang stopped the freshman.  “Hey, Ping… Would you like to get coffee later? I… Had a few things i wanted to talk to you about.”

 

“Uhhh…” Ping was nervous, and suspicious. Was it some kind of setup? Why was the captain taking such an interest in him lately?  “Sure, i guess…”

 

“Cool.” He handed the younger man a scrap of paper with his number scrawled on it.  “Say, around five? At the coffee shop near campus?”

 

“Sure, it's a date,” Ping said with a smile that turned to horror as soon as he realized what he'd said. “I… Uh… I mean…”

 

Shang chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “I'll see you then.”

 

Pocketing the number, he watched Shang go to the locker room to get changed.  Ping hung back. He always did. He never wanted to get changed in the locker room at the same time as the other guys, and if he was forced to, he usually used a bathroom stall.  They thought he was just weird, and he just let them think that, because letting them know the truth would potentially put him at risk.

 

Waiting until everybody else had cleared out, he slipped out of his sweaty jersey and back into his street clothes.  Some of the other guys often showered after practice, but never Ping. He always waited until he got home, to spend as little time in the locker room possible.  Tugging his t-shirt down, he adjusted the ace bandages wrapped around his chest, which had a tendency to shift during the rigorous activity of practice. Satisfied at last that his chest looked smooth again, he pulled the number out of his pocket, and took a deep, steadying breath.  “You can do this,” he whispered to himself, but he remained unconvinced.

 

There was no denying it; he had it bad for Shang. He lived for every moment that Senpai noticed him, and while he'd imagined something like this too many times to count, now that it was actually happening, he had no idea what to do.

 

Playing through various scenarios in his head with this new information taken into account, he could not imagine a single one where any of this ended well.

 

Later that evening, Ping waited anxiously at a table in the coffee shop, sipping a frappuccino. After much debate with himself, he built up the courage at last to send a text;  “I'm here, at a table to the right.”

 

Seconds later, the reply came; “Almost there, see you shortly.”

 

Realistically, less than a minute had passed before Shang walked in; but it felt like ages to the nervous Ping.  Scanning the room upon entering, his face lit up with recognition when he saw Ping waving timidly. Making his way over to the register, Shang ordered his drink, then came to sit with his teammate.

 

“The roads are a total circus right now with this weather, and every clown is behind the wheel of a car, i swear,” Shang joked as he took a seat.

 

“Oh, i know,” Ping laughed.  “I had to drive like five miles an hour the whole way here…  But i planned for that, so i left early.”

 

Shaking his head, Shang gave an airy snort of amusement.  “You're always early, and if you're on time it's late for you… I have to say, I've noticed that about you.”

 

Color flooded to the younger man's cheeks.  “Uh… Thanks, i think…” It was strange to realize that Shang had noticed such small details about him, and Ping shifted self-consciously. He couldn't help but wonder what other sorts of things that the handsome captain might have noticed about him.

 

“It's a compliment, definitely… But, that's not quite why i wanted to meet you here… I've noticed you've been really struggling all season.  Have you played football before, Ping? You just… Don't seem quite cut out for it.”

 

The fidgeting fell away, and he sobered instantly, his focus intent on Shang.  “I'll… I'll try harder. I'll come in early, stay late for practices. Please don't kick me off the team, Shang…”

 

“Oh, no, no, nothing of the sort,” he assured Ping hastily, hand raised in pacification.  “It's just… I see how hard you try, Ping. You try harder than anybody else, and while it's admirable, i can see it's taking a toll on you… How are your grades doing?”

 

“They're great… I study very hard.”

 

Shang nodded.  “That's good… I expected as much, just wanted to check though.  Have you… Maybe considered trying a different sport? Why football?”

 

“I…” His heart on his sleeve, Ping was utterly vulnerable in that moment.

 

A thought flickered unbidden through the captain's brain right then about how attractive Ping was; his slender, petite build, and his soft, effeminate features and voice.  Its inopportune timing sent a twinge of guilt chasing right on its heels.

 

“I don't know.  I just… I wanted to. I WANT to. That's all.”  It was obvious that the captain wasn't satisfied with the answer; but Ping didn't know how to better explain to him that he felt like he needed to prove himself in this way, so of course he'd tackled- quite literally- the biggest and most masculine thing he could find.

 

“Would you? Consider a different sport, i mean?  I coach track and field in the spring, and… That seems like it might be a little more your speed.  Your, uh… Build… Seems more suited to something like that, maybe.” Shang could read the heart-rending disappointment in Ping's eyes.  “I just… I want to see you succeed, Ping. And, being realistic here, i don't see football as being something you can do that with.”

 

A moment of silence hung over them, and Ping was thoughtful, almost morose.  “But… You're not kicking me off the team?” The underlying hope in his voice was unmistakable.

 

Exasperated, the captain gave a heavy sigh. “No, I'm not… I can see this matters a lot to you, though i don't understand why. You can finish out the season, but it's probably going to be warming the bench; i can't guarantee you any actual game time… I do strongly recommend though that you try something different next season.”

 

One question had been bothering Ping since he'd first been approached after practice, and he chewed his lip, perplexed.  “Why are you… Why do you even care? You're like, the maximum popularity jock. Why are you bothering with a nerd like me?  I've noticed that you give me a little more attention than the other guys sometimes, unless I'm just imagining it…”

 

It was Shang's turn to feel embarrassed.  “I… I don't want to see you snapped in half, Ping.  Most of those guys are nearly twice your size, and easily double your weight and mass.” Flames of defiance seared in Ping's eyes, and Shang tried to quench them by softly adding, “...I don't want to see you get hurt.”

 

It was a gamble for Shang, one that showed a bit more of his hand than he'd wanted to at this juncture of things, but it had the desired effect.

 

Ping was disarmed, taken off-guard by the moment of honest vulnerability from Shang, and it flustered him. “You don't seem worried about any of the other guys…”

 

Shang didn't have an answer for that, at least not one that didn't sound really obviously gay, or implying favoritism. He knew the team was cold sometimes to newcomers, singling them out. He also knew the pull he had with the guys on the team; they respected him, and they followed his lead. So, making a show of special interest in Ping placed the freshman under his protection, so to speak. But Shang didn't want to belittle him, so he let it hang in awkward silence a while, then changed the subject. “How is your home life?  Your parents? Siblings?”

 

“I'm an only child." Suspicion crept in over the sudden shift in the direction of the conversation, but he went along with it.  “Things at home are… They're ok. My mom is great. My dad… Not so much.”

 

“You don't get along?” Shang sat forward, leaning his elbows on the table.

 

“Eh… Something like that.  It's… Complicated, with him.”

 

It was pretty evident that it was a sore spot, and Shang didn't press too hard at it.  “Do you have any friends? A… Girlfriend?” The last bit he knew was pushing his luck, but he hoped it was received as an innocuous question, in line with the rest of the conversation.

 

Ping supplied an answer a little too quickly.  “I moved quite a way away from home to come to school here, so i don't have any friends here yet really.  My girlfriend is… Online.”

 

The haste of the reply left Shang skeptical, and it felt rehearsed, but he let it slide.  An online girlfriend was a convenient cop-out, but also rather common these days. Shang knew he was grasping at straws; he very much wanted there to be something more here, a possibility that Ping was interested in him… But, he knew the likelihood was slim.  It was a familiar disappointment he'd had to bear his entire life.

 

Underneath a mostly cool exterior, Ping was in full panic mode. This “friendly conversation” was grazing too deeply on topics he didn't really want to discuss so casually with the team captain.  He knew the online girlfriend line was a little unbelievable, but Shang didn't question it much, which made Ping both relieved that he wasn't being grilled about an outright lie, but disappointed that Shang didn't seem particularly interested in him. He realized that the fault was his though, since Shang had always been a decent and upstanding guy, who probably wouldn't try to lead somebody to cheat if they were already in a committed relationship. “It's… Not really serious, though,” Ping added as an afterthought.  He saw the flicker of Shang's face brightening at that, and a tentative hope kindled in his gut. “Do… You have a girlfriend?”

 

Shang was very put on the spot at that moment, and scrambled for a reply. “I'm… Ah…  Busy with other interests. I don't really have time for a girlfriend.” He saw Ping nodding, and thought he seemed a little put-out at this news, but knew it might be his imagination reading into things that weren't there.

 

Ping was in fact put-out, but more because it was a noncommittal deferment rather than an outright admission of, “I actually don't like girls, but you're pretty tasty-looking.” He knew that was absurd and wishful thinking on his part, but he couldn't help but pick up this ever-so-faint queer vibe off of Shang. Ping admitted to himself that it was slight enough that it was possible he was only imagining it.

 

“I should really get going,” Ping said, standing up to excuse himself.  “I've got a lot of studying to do, with midterms coming up…”

 

“Oh, sure… Yeah, yeah, no problem,” Shang agreed, standing up and kicking himself internally.  He'd botched this somehow, and he wasn't sure how to fix it. Maybe the chemistry just wasn't right. Maybe he was reading too much into it that wasn't there.  “I'll see you at practice tomorrow, yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” Ping shook his hand firmly, then turned and kept walking, his stomach sinking. It took everything in him to not turn and look back.  He'd see Shang tomorrow. No big deal.

 

That night at home in the dorms, Ping's phone vibrated on the desk next to where he was studying. When he checked it, it was a text from Shang; “That was fun, we should hang out again sometime soon.”

 

Ping felt his heart leap up into his throat. “Fun?” he whispered at the screen, incredulous. “More like nerve-wracking…” Pushing the phone aside, he tried to focus on his book. Still though, a shy smile crept over his face, and he finally relented, reaching again for the phone, his thumb Swyping over the keyboard as he responded, then set the phone back down.  But the smile would not leave his lips.

 

Across town, in a studio apartment, the chime of a text alert on his bedside table prompted Shang to roll over and check the message.

 

“I'd like that.”

 

His fist pumped victoriously in the air. Maybe it didn't go as badly as he'd first thought, he consoled himself.  At the very least, Ping had agreed to hang out again. “Even if he isn't interested like THAT,” he mumbled to himself, “at least we can be friends.”

 

*****

 

The next day, Ping was excited to see Shang again at practice.  They chatted briefly until everybody had arrived, then Shang called them to order.  This was an extra practice, so the coach wasn't actually there, it was Shang who was directing the drills.

 

“Come on you pussies, get it in gear!” he shouted, clapping his hands.  He was looking at Ping right as he said that, and he could see him visibly cringe at the use of that phrase. He figured Ping was just the more sensitive type; it seemed to fit. Shang was so accustomed to using the coarse language that it was second nature to him, but he made a mental note to try to use terms that were less offensive from here on out.

 

It was a bit of a stretch for him.  The abrasive insults were as much a part of the game as anything else, and he'd never questioned why before… It seemed counter-intuitive, now that he stopped to think about it. How does berating people build camaraderie and teamwork, except maybe through trauma-bonding?  The whole sport was rife with problematic issues, there was no denying it. But Shang wanted to do better for Ping.

 

That word had been a gut punch to Ping, and he tried to hold it together even though he was mildly dissociating. He knew that Shang couldn't have suspected the deep offense that Ping, a stealth transgender man, took to such a term… But the ever-present paranoia and dysphoria started creeping in around the edges. He threw himself extra hard into the exercises, trying to distract himself from his mental distress by focusing more on his body.

 

After things wrapped up, Shang plopped down on the bench. “Good practice tonight,” he commended Ping, sitting beside him.

 

The younger man glowed with the praise.  “Thanks… I, uh… I got your text last night.”

 

“Yeah… Are you busy on Saturday?”

 

“No, not at all… What did you have in mind?”

 

They made plans to go to a restaurant for dinner; A sit-down place, but nothing fancy.

 

“Sounds awesome… I'll see you then!” Waving goodbye, Ping and hurried off to his car parked at the edge of the field without getting changed, his mind churning with a single question: “Is this a date?”

 

Saturday took forever to arrive.  Shang didn't have any classes with Ping, and so Friday passed painfully slow.  Working his job as a grocery clerk helped to pass the time somewhat, with a shift after school Friday and opening on Saturday, but it felt like Christmas morning by the time six came around.

 

Rolling up in front of the restaurant, Shang parked next to Ping's car. “Always early,” he chuckled to himself as he went inside.

 

The bright smile of the waitress welcomed Shang as he came inside.  “Just you tonight, honey?”

 

“Oh, no, I'm meeting a, uh… Friend. He's already here.”

 

“Ah, gotcha, i know just the one, he's back this way.” She led Shang to a table toward the back.  Ping had been staring out the window, spacing out, but his face lit up as she seated Shang. “You want some coffee, hun?” the waitress asked as she laid some silverware and a menu on the table in front of him.

 

“Tea, if you have it?”

 

“You bet, we got black or mint.”

 

“Mint, thank you. With honey.”

 

“You bet, sweetie.” She gave Shang a wink, then looked to Ping.  “You need a top-off on your coffee, sugar?”

 

Ping held his hand over the mouth of his cup. “No ma'am, I'm fine, thank you.”

 

“Alright, I'll be back in a jiffy to take you boys’ orders.” She hustled off to the kitchen to make the tea.

 

The conversation was light… Easy. They discussed common interests, hobbies, movies.  More than once, they had one another in tears with laughter.

 

The chemistry was good. Ping was shocked when he looked down at his phone and saw it was 11:06pm. “Oh my god, how did it get this late? I've got an 8am class, I've gotta get home and to bed…”

 

Looking at his own phone, Shang grimaced. “Yikes… Yeah, i should get home too…”

 

They paid their tabs at the register, and walked out to the parking lot together, standing in front of their cars on the sidewalk.  The moment became uncomfortable then, and Ping felt like there was something that needed said, but he wasn't sure what. “I, um… I had a nice time. We should do this again soon.”

 

Shang smiled. “Definitely.  I had fun too. See you at practice, k? You can text me whenever, we can make plans to hang out again.”

 

A warm glow filled Ping.  He wanted to hug the captain, but was afraid it was too awkward, and maybe not quite the sort of thing that guy friends might do so much, so he held his closed hand up for a fistbump instead.

 

Obliging him with a chuckle, internally giddy with delight, Shang waved. “Have a good night."

 

“You too, Shang.” Ping watched the captain get into his car and drive away.  “Oh god,” he whispered to himself. “What am i even doing?”

 

*****

 

Months passed, and this became a regular thing with them.  They met once or twice a week, either for coffee or a meal, or just to study together in one of the campus study labs or the library.  Ping had never been so happy… Or so miserable, because for all its wonderfulness, all this time together only served to remind him that they were just friends.

 

The invitation to come over to Shang's apartment one night to play video games was unexpected for Ping. He was a little nervous, but he agreed.  He showed up early, pizza in hand. “Hope you like meat,” he said, lifting the pizza up as Shang waved him in.

 

“I love meat,” Shang said, and instantly regretted the potential innuendo of the phrasing, but shrugged it off.

 

They ate pizza together, and Ping kicked Shang's ass on a racing game, but Shang came out on top in the fighting one.  They were having such a blast together, Ping didn't want to leave, but it was starting to get late, and he was getting tired.  “I better get home." He grabbed his jacket off the couch. “This was a lot of fun, thanks for having me over. Maybe i can bring some of my games next time.”

 

“That'd be cool. Thanks for coming.” Walking together to the door, Shang felt there was a moment about to pass him by, so he tried something that he knew was a long shot.  “Your girlfriend is a lucky lady, to have a cool guy like you.”

 

A knot twisted up in Ping's stomach. “Um… I… Lied. About the girlfriend.  There isn't one.”

 

The corners of Shang's mouth turned up gently. “I thought maybe that was the case… Sounded pretty convenient, but i wasn't gonna push on it.”

 

Ping nodded. “Thanks… It's… You know how it is, i guess… You wanna fit in. Make friends. Be the same as other people. Seem… Normal.”

 

The hair prickled on the back of Shang's neck. “I'm glad we're… Friends.” And then he waited, to see what Ping would say to that.

 

Ping shifted uncomfortably. “Is… That what we are? Friends?” He felt a pang of disappointment.

 

“Uh… I would say so, yeah…” They stood there in the open doorway of Shang's apartment, the moment hanging, breathless. “Unless… I mean… You wanted to be something else…”

 

Panic shot through Ping, and he stiffened.  “Like… Enemies?”

 

Shang locked eyes with him. “No… I meant, like… Something more.”

 

“Pffft… Nooo…” Ping laughed, waving it off.  “I mean…” He swallowed hard. “...unless YOU did…?”

 

An aching tightness spread through Shang's chest, and he looked down, moving to close the door. “It's… Never mind.”

 

“No, wait…" Ping stopped the door from closing with his foot. He could hardly believe what he was hearing, it was almost surreal. "Are you, like…” He glanced over his shoulder, checking that nobody was nearby before he spoke, even still keeping his volume low. “You mean, like… Interested in me? Like… THAT way?”

 

Shang was conflicted within himself, whether he should just try to sweep it all under the rug as a weird misunderstanding, or to come clean about his feelings. He was trying to gauge Ping's expression, and decided it was now or never. “It's fine if not… I still want to be friends. I don't want things to get weird. I can be cool, if not… Just, don't mention anything to the guys on the team, ok? It might cause problems.”

 

“I wouldn't dream of it,” Ping assured him hurriedly. He shook his head, confused. “Wait, hold up, you're saying that you're…”

 

“...gay. Yeah. Full stop. I like guys. I… Like you.  Sorry if that's weird of me…” Opening the door a few inches, Shang grew cautiously hopeful that his confession hadn't sent Ping running straight for the hills, and he took this at least as a good sign.

 

Rubbing at the back of his neck and taking a step toward the open doorway, Ping gave a nervous laugh. “No, not at all… It's… Actually unbelievable. I can't believe I'm standing here having this conversation with you right now.”

 

Shang perked up. “You're not sketched out?”

 

Rubbing his face in his hands, Ping's reply was somewhat muffled. “God, no… I've… I've had it bad for you since the first time i saw you.”

 

“No way,” Shang said, incredulous.

 

“Way…” Another nervous laugh. “I can't believe… Is this real right now? Are we standing here, having this conversation right now?”

 

“Seems like it, yeah… Wow…”

 

“Yeah, wow… So, uh… See you at practice then, i guess?”

 

Shang grinned.  “Definitely. But, uh… Can we kinda keep a wrap on this, for now? I'm…”

 

“Still in the closet, i get it, It's totally fine.” Ping gave him double thumbs up. “Not a problem. But, yeah… Text me. We can get together again soon.”

 

“I'd love that.” Shang waved as Ping jogged down the stairs and to his car, and watched him drive away.

 

*****

 

Keeping it totally professional at school seemed to be Ping's speciality. Outside of school though, hey continued to hang out, having coffee dates and lunch together, and the occasional video game marathon.  There were a few times when sexual tensions started to rise, but the moment was never right, so Shang didn't try to put the moves on Ping. He could show patience and self-restraint, if need be, and in all truth he really did enjoy just hanging out with him, and never wanted that to end.

 

One day after practice, Shang went to his car and realized he'd left his keys in the locker room, so went back to look for them.

 

When he walked around the corner, he saw something unexpected… Ping was getting changed out of his jersey, standing there with no shirt on.  His chest was wrapped in ace bandages, and without his shirt, Shang could easily see the narrowness of his waist, and the curve of his hips.

 

Ping caught the motion out of the corner of his eye and turned, clutching his shirt over his chest. He was frozen in terror momentarily, then came to his senses and yanked his shirt over his head in a panic, snatching up his things and bolting from the room.  Shang called after him, but he did not stop.

 

Pounding his steering wheel to the mantra of, "Stupid, stupid, stupid," Ping had to pull over halfway home because he was crying so hard he could barely see the road to drive.  This was one of the "worst case scenarios" he'd imagined back when Shang had first asked him out to coffee to talk. Living stealth meant no one knew he was transgender. Ping preferred it this way, because people just saw him as himself, as Ping; maybe a little wimpy and nerdy, but just one of the guys.  He lived with a constant fear of somebody finding out though, and that secret setting things awry when it came to light.

 

When he first transitioned, people in his life would call him by his old name often, or screw up his pronouns. Every mistake, every slip of the tongue, whether meant maliciously or truly accidental, was like a dagger twisting in his gut.

 

Coming to university offered him a chance to get away from all that and start over, with people who saw him as male and only called him Ping, and didn't view him just as "she used to be so-and-so," like they did back home. There was a difference here, more of a freedom and a sense of ease… But, he had become TOO lax, he chastised himself. Taken too many risks, wanted too much, stepped out too far, and fallen harder than he'd anticipated. He wondered what would happen between them, now that Shang knew. He was wrecked emotionally.  When he made it home, he turned off his phone and went to bed, hoping to find momentary escape in slumber, and also because he was exhausted from crying.

 

They had plans set already for Ping to come over again that night to game at Shang's, but he never showed. Shang texted him, “You ok?” but there was no response. Shang was worried, but he understood Ping being upset. The skittishness about changing with the other guys in the locker room, his shortness and softer features, even the time he'd noticed Ping cringing at the use of that offensive term- them memory of which now made Shang cringe as well- it all added up in hindsight, pointing to the conclusion that Ping was transgender, and it was clearly something he didn't want people knowing about.

 

Since Ping wasn't answering his phone, Shang was left in the dark as to the details. In the absence of direct information, Shang turned to the next best source: the internet.

 

"I just found out my friend is transgender" was a search that led him down a rabbit hole of information. For hours he poured over websites and forums, following links and watching YouTube videos, trying to educate himself as much as possible on this issue. He hoped he was wrong about his conclusion, but the further he delved, the less he believed that was a possibility.  There were too many signs, too many little coincidences that lined up too perfectly to chalk up to mere coincidence.

 

He sat back from his screen at one point, giving himself a moment to process all of this. He wanted to be supportive, but where did this leave the two of them together? Was Ping still going to want to be together? Shang had only ever had sex before with people who had a penis… A lot of the information he found said that many transgender men hadn't had what they called "bottom surgery," or phalloplasty, either due to cost or various personal reasons. He wasn't sure how any of that stuff worked, and that was even assuming that Ping would be interested in having sex with him in the first place… Apparently a lot of transgender people were uncomfortable with engaging in certain types of sexual activity- or, in some cases, any sex at all.

 

Shang considered this deeply. What did he want out of this relationship? Did sex really matter that much to him? Was he still attracted to Ping, knowing this new information?  It didn't take him very long to realize that yes, his attraction to Ping went further than just the physical; he loved him for who he was as a person, and whatever his body configuration was like (or not like) was just part of the package deal.

 

"How to be supportive of my transgender boyfriend" and "how to have sex with a transgender man" were both searches that brought up helpful tips. Shang began to take notes, wanting to be sure he remembered all of this. He also prepared a shopping list; lube, gloves, condoms, and dental dams, all things recommended as good supplies to keep on hand for safe sex with a transgender man. He wanted to be prepared, just in case.

 

He also found out that the bandages Ping had wrapped his chest in, were an unsafe method of binding. The uneven compression provided from medical bandages or makeshift binders could cause back injury, cracking a rib or even puncturing a lung.  Compression shirts, or "binders," were much safer, medically designed garments that provided even compression. Shang checked a few sites, found one with a good return policy, took a guess on the size, and ordered Ping a proper binder, with overnight delivery.

 

Satisfied that he'd done everything he could for the time being, and realizing how late it was, Shang went to bed.

 

He didn't see or hear from Ping until a few days later, at practice.

 

Ping was avoidant, and right after practice he grabbed his backpack from the sidelines, making straight for his car.

 

“Ping, wait,” Shang called, catching up to him. Ping didn't seem to want to talk, but Shang persisted.  “Ping, i need to talk to you…”

 

“I don't really want to talk about it, Shang,” Ping snapped, clutching his backpack to his chest.  Why was he making this harder than it needed to be, Ping agonized. Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone?

 

Shang glanced over to see that nobody else was within earshot of them.  “I saw the bandages… Did you have a surgery or something?” he asked softly.

 

His eyes were downcast. “...no, i did not. Regrettably.” There was that blade again, twisting in his gut. He clutched the backpack tighter to him, trying to shield himself from the inquisition and prying eyes.

 

“Ok, then i need to let you know that ace bandages are an unsafe form of compression, and it's a really bad idea to exercise like that, you could crack a rib, or puncture a lung.”

 

“Yeah, i…” He was primed for a snappy comeback, but then his brain caught up to his ears. “Wait… What did you say?”

 

“Is this why you didn't come over last night?” Brows furrowed and sincerely wounded by all this, Shang was thankful that Ping was even willing to talk to him at all.

 

Ping was mystified. “Yeah, but… Why?”

 

“Why what?”

 

Ping scoffed. “Why would you still want me to come over?”

 

“Because we have fun together? Because i like you?” Shang's confusion was evident.

 

“Shang, if you haven't surmised by now, I'm transgender…” Ping was nearly in tears now.

 

“I did figure that out, yeah. But why does that matter about you coming over?” Shang asked.

 

“Because you're a gay guy!” Ping snapped, then checked himself and lowered his tone. “Because you like guys… And I'm…”

 

Shang waited for him to finish the sentence, but he didn't, so he prodded him. “You're… What, exactly?”

 

Ping gestured to his body in frustration.

 

Shang stepped closer. “All i see is a handsome young man… One whom i happen to be deeply attracted to.”

 

Ping choked back a sob. “You don't mean that.”

 

“I do, actually.”

 

“Shang, I'm… I've got a… I don't really have a… Dick. Not… Not a proper one, anyway.” He sniffled. "Like, i have a silicone one in a box, in a drawer, in my dorm, but that doesn't count."

 

Shang shrugged. “Ok, i see what you're getting at, but it's not really been an issue up until now… You don't need that to drink coffee and eat pizza and play video games with me… And, if you're talking about sex, it's fine… I like you for you. For who you are inside. Whatever comes along with that, I'm ok with it. I may not be familiar with that stuff, but I can learn. Or not. I don't want you to think I'm just in this for a piece of ass… That's not the case. This was never meant to be a hookup.  We can take things slow. I'll go at your pace. Or if you're not down for that, we can just keep on like we have been. Sex is nice, but i mean, it's not the end-all-be-all of a relationship, you know? I like just hanging out with you…” Shang reached out and took Ping's hand in his. “I don't want this to ruin what we have… I don't think it has to, anyway.”

 

Ping was openly weeping now. “Do you seriously mean any of that?”

 

“Every word of it, i swear… Why?”

 

Ping wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “Cis gay guys are assholes sometimes toward people like me… I can't even begin to tell you how hard it's been to date gay guys like this…”

 

Shang gave a charming smile. “Their loss is my gain, then…”

 

Ping sniffed, glancing over toward the field. “Hey, somebody is gonna see us being weird…”

 

“Let ‘em see,” Shang challenged. “It was starting to get a little stuffy in that closet anyway… Will you come over tonight? Please?”

 

“Ummm… Give me a couple days, ok? To think about things.  We can plan for Friday, unless you hear otherwise from me.”  Ping still sounded upset, but not utterly distraught.

 

Shang squeezed his hand. “Of course.  Whatever you need, Ping. I'm just a text away, you know that, right?”  Ping nodded, sniffling. “I might touch bases with you a couple times between now and then, but i just want to make sure you're doing ok… I won't press you, i promise… Is that alright?”

 

A thin smile graced Ping's lips. “Yeah. That'd be fine.  Thanks, Shang.”

 

*****

 

That had been Tuesday.  Friday was a long wait, but Shang, true to his word, was patient. He texted Ping on Wednesday evening, “Hey, it's me… Are you doing ok?”

 

The text chimed on Ping's phone, on his desk next to where he was studying. He saw the text preview pop up, but he hesitated to reply. _Was_ he ok? Ping wasn't quite sure himself.  This whole situation had him rattled. None of this had gone according to plan; Shang wasn't supposed to have seen him changing, he'd always taken special care about that.  And he wasn't supposed to have tried to talk to him afterward. Ping figured Shang would just ghost on him once he found out, like most of the other Cis gay guys did.

 

He'd have been lying to himself if he didn't admit that this was what he'd hoped for; but, that had been in his wildest dreams, and this was reality… Like a dog that had finally caught his tail, now that he had it, he didn't know what to do with it.

 

Turning back to his books for a while, he finally stopped for a break and picked up his phone. He stared at it blankly, asking himself again, was he really ok?

 

This was the best of all possible scenarios, really, he realized.  If things were going to continue with Shang, it would probably have come to intimacy at some time or another, and then it would have come out then, that he was transgender… The circumstances weren't ideal, but the cat was out of the bag now, and Ping was pleasantly shocked at how well Shang was taking all this.  He didn't run for the hills, he hadn't outed him to the team yet… Maybe it was going to be ok.

 

The silence was worrisome to Shang, since Ping usually replied promptly. But after about an hour and a half, he got the reply, “Yeah, thanks.”

 

It wasn't so reassuring, but Shang forced himself to be satisfied with that much. He knew Ping was probably dealing with a lot more than he was, and he was trying to give him the space to do that in.

 

On Friday morning, he texted again, “Are we still on for tonight at my place?”

 

The reply was almost instantaneous this time. “Yeah, I'll be there at 6.”

 

Shang smiled, relieved.  The day passed in tedium, but finally the clock approached 6pm. He nearly catapulted himself from his chair when he heard the knock at the door.

 

Ping was standing there wearing a much-debated over baggy sweater, feeling timid and self-conscious.  “Hey.”

 

“Come on in, it's freezing out there,” Shang said, ushering him inside and shutting the door behind them.  “Do you want some soda? I can make tea, hot chocolate…”

 

“Hot chocolate sounds really good, yeah… Thanks.” Ping made his way to the couch, sitting at the end and drawing his feet up under him.  This was awkward, but Shang still wanted to talk to him, and he was willing to try to work things out… This was definitely the best possible scenario, given the circumstances.

 

“Two hot chocolates, coming right up.” Shang stepped into the open kitchen and put the kettle on, pulling out a couple packs of cocoa and two mismatched mugs. Once the kettle was whistling, he got out some spoons.  “I got you a little something… It's on the table there,” Shang said as he poured the water and stirred the cups.

 

Ping looked on the coffee table and saw a padded shipping mailer lying there.  Curious, he picked it up and tore off the easy-open strip, sliding the contents out.

 

“I had to guess on the size,” Shang said as he brought the mugs to the coffee table and set them down, sitting beside Ping on the couch. “They have an excellent return policy though, i checked in advance, so if it doesn't fit, we can get it exchanged…”

 

Ping unfurled the fabric and immediately started crying.

 

“Do you not like it?” Shang asked, worried.

 

“You bought me a binder?” Ping asked.

 

“Yeah… The bandages are dangerous, i told you that… This evens out the compression, it's safer, but you still shouldn't wear it for more than like eight hours a day, i think they said…” Shang paused.  “I guess you can consider it an early Christmas gift... Do you hate it?”

 

Ping rubbed his eyes with the cuffs of his sweatshirt. “Nobody has ever done something so nice for me in my entire life, Shang.  Something so… Blatantly supportive, and accepting. I love it. Thank you so much.”

 

Shang's face lit up. “Well, go try it on!”

 

Ping gave a nervous laugh, but clutched the compression tank in his hand as he stood and went to the bathroom.

 

Shang waited patiently.  After several minutes, he called, “Everything ok in there?”

 

“Yeah,” came the slightly muffled reply. “It's just… kind of a trick to get on.”

 

“I read that on the website, yeah,” Shang called back. “If you need a hand…”

 

“No! I'm good!” Ping shouted hastily. “Sorry… I just… I'm getting it.  Thanks…”

 

“No worries, just offering,” Shang replied.  He grabbed one of the controllers and booted up a game while he waited.

 

“So… What do you think?”

 

Shang turned around.  Ping stood in the doorway of the bathroom. He looked mostly the same, in his sweatshirt… But his chest DID look a little flatter, and he stood a little taller.

 

“I think you look very handsome,” Shang told him. “And I'm relieved knowing you're not going to puncture a lung.  It's not too tight? You can still breathe easily enough?”

 

Ping came over to the couch, sitting down and grabbing the second controller. “Yeah, it fits great. Thank you so much.”  He hesitated a moment, then leaned in and gave Shang a chaste kiss on the lips. He sat back then, grinning. “You prepared to get your ass kicked again?”

 

“Definitely,” Shang laughed.

 

They played into the night. There was no school the next day, so they weren't on a timetable. After several hours and multiple game changes, Ping scooted next to Shang, their thighs rubbing against each other, side by side. They played like this for a while longer, until Ping rested his controller in his lap and turned to Shang, leaning in again for a kiss.  This one was less chaste though; it was lingering, and the air between them charged with electricity.

 

Shang pulled back, gasping slightly. “You… Don't have to do this, you know… You don't owe me anything. The binder was a gift.”

 

“Do you not want to?” Ping asked.

 

Shang smiled. “I didn't say that at all… I definitely want to. I just… Want to make sure you don't feel pressured or obligated to do anything with me, for any reason. I want to do things, but only if you do…”

 

“I want to,” Ping breathed, and went in again for another kiss. This one was returned with fervor, and they locked together for several minutes before Shang pulled back again.

 

“At your pace, alright?” he affirmed.  “We can stop, at any time, for any reason… Even if I'm on the very edge of coming, you say the word and i will stop. If i do anything that you don't like, or that makes you uncomfortable, you let me know, ok? I'm not going to be weird about it.  I won't be upset, i promise.”

 

Ping cracked a grin, panting slightly. “Do you have any idea how hot it is to hear you telling me all that?”

 

Shang looked pleasantly surprised. “No, i did not, but i do now, thank you for sharing, I'll keep that in mind… I did a little research, when i found out about… Y'know. I… Didn't want to fuck this up for you.”

 

“You're amazing, oh my god…” Ping turned, kneeling on the couch then and practically attacked Shang with his mouth, their tongues battling hungrily.  Unsure of what to do with his hands, Shang cautiously laid one on the outer part of Ping's upper arm. This prompted Ping to press his body up against Shang, who turned toward him more on the couch, pulling one leg up crooked on the seat. It created a space between them though, a problem which Ping quickly solved by just straddling Shang's thigh.

 

Shang gave a surprised vocalization, but shifted eagerly into the contact, his hands coming up behind Ping's back, pulling him close, and they crushed against one another.  Hands instinctively drifting downward, Shang checked himself, not sure if it was welcome. That was confirmed right away though by Ping wordlessly reaching back and going hand-over-hand with Shang, and sliding their hands together, downward to cup Ping's ass.  Grinning into the kiss, he squeezed his hands, delighting in the soft, needy moan that elicited.

 

Pressing his hips forward, Ping ground his crotch against the thigh below him. Shang cocked his knee up somewhat to facilitate the frottage, continuing to knead and massage with his hands.

 

With a guttural moan, Ping broke the kiss, his head falling forward onto his partner's shoulder.  Seizing the opportunity to nuzzle and kiss the neck before him, Shang drew further sounds of enjoyment from him. “Is that ok?” he asked, his lips grazing Ping's ear.

 

“Yeah,” he whispered back, and they continued to lick and suck at one another's neck and shoulder for a while before Ping shifted again, clambering over Shang's leg and onto his lap, kneeling akimbo to Shang's hips with their crotches pressed together.  “This ok?” Ping asked with only a hint of hesitation.

 

Shang rolled his hips forward, gripping Ping's ass still, grinding against him.  “Definitely,” he panted, the tail of his reply swallowed by Ping's deep and insistent kiss.  The younger man sat atop him, continuing to press forward, rubbing himself against the stiffness he could feel through Shang's jeans.

 

“God, i…  Mmmmm…” Ping moaned in frustration.

 

“What's the matter? Is something wrong?” Shang asked, stilling himself.

 

With a wry chuckle, Ping shook his head. “No, it's… It's perfect, and THAT'S the problem… I want… More.” He bit his lip and pulled back to gaze anxiously into Shang's eyes.

 

“What do you want? I bought a bunch of, uhh… Stuff.  Supplies. Just in case, you know? I've got dental dams, nitrile gloves, condoms, lube, if any of that is what you mean… Or something else? I mean, short of whips and chains, I'm down to try pretty much anything…”

 

Ping blushed slightly. “Umm… The gloves then, maybe? And… Can we turn off the lights?”

 

Shang smiled. “Of course… Do you want to move over to the bed, and I'll get the stuff?”

 

Nodding, Ping climbed off and shuffled across the room, kicking off his shoes as he crawled up on the bed.  Shang spirited into the bathroom, returning momentarily with a shopping bag, switching the light off as he came.

 

Fishing out a glove from the box in the bag, he set the sack next to the bed on the floor, where he could access it easily in the dark.  He slipped the glove on his hand and then climbed onto the bed next to Ping. They bumped noses leaning in to kiss, and both laughed, lightening the mood a little.

 

Laying his hand on the back of Shang's head, Ping pulled him in for an open mouthed kiss, hooking his leg behind Shang's and pulling it in between his own.  Shang responded by pressing his knee and thigh upward, feeling the warmth of Ping's crotch grinding against him.

 

They stayed like that for a while, then Shang heard the rustling of jeans being unbuttoned and unzipped.  Ping touched Shang's shoulder, following his arm down to his wrist and guiding his gloved hand to Ping's open fly.  “Just… Take it slow,” Ping said.

 

“Of course,” Shang reassured him.  “What, um… What do you call your… Parts? So i know.”

 

“My dick, or my cock,” Ping said. “And, the other part, i just prefer to keep it vague… “Up front,” or “inside” is best. Thank you, though. For… Asking.  Even if it's awkward. I really appreciate it.”

 

“Well, like i said, i did some research, when i found out… I wanted to be sure i didn't screw things up with you, if anything like this happened, you know? I wanted things to be nice for you.”

 

“Thank you,” Ping said, leaning up to kiss Shang again as he slid Shang's gloved hand down into the waistband of his briefs.  “Just… Just treat it like you would any other dick. The structure and sensation is the same, just smaller.”

 

“Ok.” Inching his fingers downward, he heard the jagged gasp as he found the base of Ping's shaft.

 

Hips grinding forward into the exploratory touch, Ping whimpered as the fingers slid along the length of his cock, circling the head lightly.  “If you want some lube, I'm sure there's plenty, you can just… Borrow some. From the outside though.”

 

Shang nodded and slid his finger back, surprised to find how slick it was just below Ping's erection.  Wetting the fingertip of the glove with some of the fluid, he brought it back forward again, rubbing small circles around the head, and working back up the shaft.  In structure, it really was like a very tiny penis; he could feel the head of the glans, the coronal ridge, all familiar anatomy from his own body, and Ping responded to various stimulation in a similar fashion as he himself would.

 

Ping continued to make soft moans, his body jerking and writhing in pleasure.  He grabbed the waist of his pants and briefs, pushing down at them, trying to wriggle out of the constricting garments.  Shang sat upright and assisted with his free hand, until the offending pants and underwear were around his ankles, where he kicked them unceremoniously onto the floor, then lay on his back. He trembled, both excited and nervous.

 

Shang lay back alongside Ping, his fingers stroking his tiny cock slowly, occasionally dipping back to get a little more free lube that was leaking from him.  At one point, when he was doing this, Ping shifted his hips suddenly, pressing Shang's fingertip into his opening a little. He gave a needy whine, and his hand found Shang's wrist, gripping it to press it further in.

 

“You want me to go inside of you?” Shang asked, hesitant.  “I mean, I'm not opposed to it, it's just that a lot of the stuff i read suggested that trans guys didn't usually care for penetration THERE.”

 

“Some guys are into that.  I don't, usually… But right now, i do.  Just, take it slowly, and gently, one finger at a time.”

 

One finger slid back and teased around the opening, Shang smirking as he could feel every jerk and gasp beside him on the bed. Ping gave a desperate whimper of, “Please…” and Shang could not deny him what he wanted, pressing one finger slowly, inch by inch, inside of him. Ping panted, rolling his hips against the touch. Once he reached full depth, Shang withdrew then, sliding his slick coated finger up to stroke Ping's cock for a moment before running back down again to press into him.  He repeated this pattern- slowly pressing inside, withdrawing, stroking his cock, then sliding back to press his finger in again- over and over. When Ping started shifting restlessly again, Shang asked, “Do you want me to use two fingers?”

 

“Yes, please,” Ping gasped, and shortly felt the thickness of two fingers sliding inside of him.  “Oh god, that feels so good, Shang,” he moaned.

 

Shang chuckled. “I'm glad I'm doing a good job… How do you feel about having your dick sucked?”

 

A shudder ran through Ping. “I… Haven't had the pleasure of experiencing that before,” he confessed, “but, if it's something you don't mind trying, I'm ok with that i think.”

 

“Alright… You let me know though, if it gets uncomfortable for you, ok?”

 

“I will, i promise.”

 

“Do you want me to use one of the dental dams?” Shang asked, reaching for the bedside sack.

 

“No, i… I think it's fine without it, if that's ok with you…"

 

Shifting around to lay between his legs, Shang kept two fingers still buried in him as he lowered his face and nuzzled the short trimmed hair that surrounded Ping's erect cock.  It throbbed as his lips found the tip, tongue teasing tiny circles around the head before he closed his mouth over it, pressing down to take his full length into mouth, then withdrawing, tongue still flicking over and around the tip as he sucked firmly and bobbed his head, using his pursed lips like a cock sleeve to jerk Ping off.

 

“Oh god, your mouth feels so warm… It's so good,” Ping murmured, nails digging into the top of the bedspread.

 

Shang's fingers were still slipping in and out of Ping's front hole, wriggling around, trying to find a pace and a motion that worked the best for him.

 

“Three,” Ping gasped. “Please?”

 

Shang hummed in agreement, sending vibrations through Ping's cock, causing him to cry out.  Sliding a third finger alongside the others, Shang continued to suck him off while he pressed his fingers into the hole again and again.  He settled on a “come hither” motion on the withdrawal.

 

Thrashing around and whimpering, Ping gasped, “Oh god, Shang… Stop… Stop for a minute…”

 

Instantly ceasing all motion, Shang withdrew his fingers and sat up on his elbows, concerned. “You ok?  Did i hurt you?”

 

“No, no… God, no,” Ping laughed, almost delirious. He sat up.  “No, it… It feels amazing. But i… I want you inside of me.”

 

“Are you… Sure of that?” Shang asked.

 

“Yeah… You said you had condoms, right… But i… I want to taste you, first. Is that ok?”

 

“Sure. I told you, whatever you wanted… How do you want to do this, exactly?”

 

“Um… Lay back, up here, where i was,” Ping directed, and Shang shifted himself around until they had basically switched places.  Laying atop him, Ping kissed him feverishly, grinding their dicks together through Shang's jeans for a few minutes before Ping sat back up and shimmied downward between Shang's legs.  After working the button and zipper of the fly open, Shang raised his hips so Ping could pull the jeans down and off, tossing them on top of his own that lay on the floor.

 

Fingers softly caressing Shang's exposed shaft, Ping gripped it lightly and tugged the skin back and forth along its length before bringing his lips to the tip and lapping up the bead of precum that was dribbling there.  Sucking air through gritted teeth, Shang suppressed a moan; He'd been so focused on Ping and his needs, he hadn't been paying much attention to how turned on he was himself. But it was quite a lot apparently, as he felt himself throb on Ping's lips, another surge of precum dribbling forth.

 

Lips gliding over the head, Ping tongued the tangy fluid as he slid down the length of his shaft, sucking firmly.  He was delighted at the noises coming from Shang, and sucked him a while, enjoying the sounds, and the sucking itself, quite thoroughly.

 

Finally he sat up, and pulled the bag up onto the bed.  Shang reached into it and located the box of condoms in the dark by touch, opening it and removing one of the packages. He tore it open and rolled it on over himself. “Ok… Do you want to be on top, so you can control the depth and speed and everything?”

 

“Yeah, that sounds best,” Ping replied, and Shang straightened his legs out together, allowing Ping to climb over him, straddling his thighs. Reaching a hand between them and gripped the cock at the base, Ping rubbed himself up against it and along its length, circling the heads of their cocks together, causing them both to gasp and moan until Ping couldn't stand it anymore. He came forward on his hands and knees, over Shang's chest, kissing him slowly as he used the hand gripping Shang's cock to line it up with his hole.  The passage was soaked with fluid, and he could have quite easily slid him in, but he took his time; tiny micro-thrusts, just enough to stimulate the inside of his opening, inched him slowly down over Shang's length, occasionally withdrawing entirely and starting the whole process over again.

 

Shang was utterly breathless.  “I don't know if I've ever been so hard in my entire life,” he whispered.

 

“Is that a good thing?” Ping asked him, unsure.

 

“You have me turned on beyond my wildest dreams right now… I'd call than an amazing thing, yeah…”

 

Shang felt Ping's smile through their kiss. It was at that moment that Shang slid fully inside, buried to the hilt.  Their mutual cry was swallowed by their joined mouths, and Ping broke the kiss and sat still for a time, forehead resting on Shang's shoulder, just breathing heavily.

 

“You ok?” Shang asked him, touching his cheek.

 

“Yeah, never been better, actually.”

 

“Just checking.”

 

Ping swallowed. “It's… A lot to take in, in every sense of that phrase…  Just taking a second to adjust, is all.”

 

Nodding, Shang lay still.  Every fiber of his being wanted to thrust in this moment, but he restrained his urge.  He didn't want to hurt his partner.

 

Slowly, Ping began to move again; long, full strokes, unhurried.  Shang could feel Ping's legs trembling against his thighs, and lay his hands on them. “You're shaking.”

 

“Yeah,” Ping agreed, his voice quavering similarly. “I'm in the same boat as you, about being super turned on. My legs are starting to give out on me.”

 

“Do you want to switch it up?” Shang offered.  He could sense Ping's reluctance at the suggestion. "Not me on top… I mean, i can finish you with my hand and mouth, if you'd like? You can lay back here and let me worship you like the prince you are…"

 

An unintelligible sound was his reply, followed by his head sagging forward against Shang's shoulder, and Ping shuddered and tightened inside around him.  "Fuck," he whispered, swallowing hard and nodding against the side of Shang's face. Shang lowered a hand between them and gripped the base of his cock, holding the condom in place as Ping slid off of him and flopped down next to Shang on the bed. "But what about you?" Ping asked.

 

"Pssshhh…" Shang fished another glove out of the bag and rolled onto his side toward Ping. "I can finish myself, or you can help, or nothing at all, I'm fine any which way, no big deal… I want this to be special for you."

 

Ping leaned up and kissed him. "Thank you," he whispered, and then words were lost to him as Shang's fingers found his cock again. Moaning as Shang stroked him, his hips bucked against his touch until he could take it no more and grabbed Shang's wrist. "Press here," Ping instructed, guiding Shang's fingers to either side of his opening. "Just outside… Like, a really firm pressure."

 

Pressing as instructed, and encouraged by Ping's shuddering gasp, Shang began to massage the outer entrance.  Ping squirmed and whimpered beneath his touch, pulling him down again to kiss him for a while before Shang shifted downward. "Gotta make good on that promise," he joked, and began licking and nipping down Ping's stomach. "Let me know if you need me to stop or switch something up, ok?"

 

"Ok."

 

Shang lapped at Ping's cock, his tongue circling the head, and flicking over the tip, sending jolts through him. His fingers were still massaging just outside to either side of his opening, until Ping's fingers covered his again, directing three of them inside. "Can you do that… 'Come here' kinda motion again?" Shang slid inside and Ping stifled a cry as the fingers found their mark. He fisted Shang's hair, back arching. "Oh, ffffuuuck," he hissed. "Just like that, yes… Oh fuck… Oh my god, yes… Oh, god, I'm gonna… Gonna…" His entire body tensed, his legs locking around Shang's arm, a high pitched whine winging itself from the depths of his soul as he convulsed in ecstasy.

 

Shang, for his part, never stopped his fingers from moving inside, or his mouth from licking and sucking at Ping's cock, until the tension began to drain from Ping's body and a hand pushed his head back.

 

"Oh, wow… That's… Mmm. Too much, heh… Wheew, I'm… Wow. Spent." He pulled Shang upward toward him, not minding that the two of them were sticky with his fluids. He just wanted to hold him, to embrace him. They lay together like that for some time, Ping cradled in Shang's arms and almost dozing off, but he startled awake. "Mmm… Wow. Thank you… I mean… For real. Thank you."

 

Shang came up on an elbow and leaned over to kiss the side of Ping's face, and Ping turned toward him, bringing a hand up to pull his face in for a second kiss, this time on the lips.

 

"Of course. Thank you for letting me… If you don't want to do anything else, that's ok. Or if you don't want to do anything again after this. Don't think I'm gonna expect sex from you all the time, just because we did it once, ok?"

 

Smirking in the dark, Ping teased, "Are you trying to get out of screwing me again?"

 

"No, of course not," Shang assured him earnestly. "It's just, I read that kind of thing can be hit or miss for trans people, so, i just want you to know, i still like you and want to be with you, even if we're not banging." Shang gave a soft chuckle.

 

"I really appreciate that… More than i can say," Ping said, and rolled toward him. "But… For right now anyway, maybe i can show you my appreciation?"

 

Running his hand down Shang's side to his hip, Ping reached between them, gripping the still stiff, latex-clad erection. "We can get rid of this i think," Ping said, fumbling at the condom. "I haven't, um… Had to deal with them very much before, what's the best way? Can you… Do you need the lights on?"

 

"Oh, no, no, I've got it." Gripping the base of the condom with one hand and the tip of it with the other, Shang slid it off and tied it in a knot, then reached over and set it on the side table. "As long as we keep it away from your, um… Down there. Can you still, uh…" The question trailed off, because there wasn't a delicate or polite way to ask it; if it was still possible for Ping to get pregnant accidentally.

 

Meaning was easy enough for him to infer though, within the context. "I take testosterone injections, and it mostly suppresses the bleeding part, but it's not a fool-proof method of contraception, and it would be really bad in a lot of ways, if that happened, if that's what you're asking."

 

"Yeah, that's pretty much what i was asking… Sorry if that was awkward…"

 

An airy snort of amusement punctuated the darkness. "It's ok… I'm awkward. There's a lot of stuff about me being the way I am, that's just straight up awkward… I don't mind answering some questions when you have them. You seem like you've more than done your due share of researching stuff on your own, and you're trying your best to be respectful, that's really all i ask…"

 

"You said you do injections… Like, yourself?"

 

"Yeah."

 

The bed shifted with Shang's compulsive cringe. "Doesn't it… Hurt?"

 

"Well, yeah…" Ping laughed. "But, it's about priorities, you know? This is important to me. And honestly, my mental health is the best it's ever been, since i started on hormones…"

 

"Is the needle very big?"

 

"Huge… Did you see Pulp Fiction?"

 

"Jeezus Christ, are you serious?"

 

Ping laughed again. "It's not quite that bad, but that's sure what it felt like to start with… I'm mostly used to it now. It's an inch and a half long."

 

"Just the needle? An inch and a half long?"

 

"Yep, just the needle."

 

A full body shudder coursed through him, shaking the mattress beneath them both. "Fuuuuuuck… That's so hardcore. And… Is it weird that i think that's kind of hot?"

 

"Do you have a medical fetish or something?"

 

"No, not that i know of. But, I'm willing to try just about anything once, if you were interested. It's just… You're so dedicated to it, you know? That's… Really admirable, and kind of hot. That you'd go to such lengths. I'm a pansy when it comes to needles."

 

Withdrawing the hand between them, Ping shifted with these words, and the tension in the room became palpable. "Ummm… There's… Something I've been meaning to talk to you about, and that just reminded me… The, uhh… The insults, at practice." Struggling to repeat the offending word, he finally spit it out. "When you called us, um… Pussies..."

 

Shang's stomach sank. "Oh my god… Yes, I am so sorry about that. You know, i did notice a while back that it really seemed to bother you, when i said that. And, when i found out you were transgender, i understood why it bothered you so much. I'm sorry. I've been trying to do better, since then. To be more encouraging, less insulting."

 

Relief washed over Ping, his tension releasing in a heavy sigh. "Thank you… I did actually notice you haven't been doing it as much lately, so thank you for that… I thought it was just coincidental, i didn't realize it was intentional."

 

"I totally get why that would bother you. I'll do better. Maybe you can help me to come up with some better alternatives?"

 

"I would love that, yes… Thank you. But right now, i think there's some more…" The tightening grip squeezing Shang's cock caused him to twitch and gasp. "... _pressing_ issues, to attend to… Wouldn't you agree?"

 

"I'd like that, yeah… If you want to, anyway."

 

Ping shifted downward. "I'd love to. And not because i feel obligated… Because i want to." He licked at the dribble of precum beaded at the tip, sliding his lips over it and down the shaft, working his tongue and sucking him.

 

Shang gave a tremulous inhalation, that ended in a groan. "I don't think I'm going to last very long… Do you wanna finish me with your hand?"

 

Sucking even harder in reply, hand gripping tightly, Ping's head bobbed up and down.

 

The intense throbbing caused Shang to whimper. "Are you ok with me coming in your mouth? Because if you don't pull off, that's what's going to happen real quick…"

 

The slight nod given in response was felt rather than seen, before Ping redoubled his efforts.

 

Every muscle tensing and breath coming as staggered panting now, Shang could hold back no longer. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him as hot cum spurted forth; hardly a drop was spilled though, swallowed with eager enthusiasm by the mouth covering him.

 

When Shang lay spent at last, Ping climbed up beside him, draping an arm over his chest. "Was it… Weird for you?"

 

"You swallowing? No, why, was that weird for you?"

 

"No, i don't mean that… I mean, Um…" The tremor in his tone belay his anxiety. "I meant, having sex. With… You know. Me. Since you're gay, and you've only been with… Guys before."

 

"Hey…" Shang turned toward him in the dark, even though they couldn't see one another. "I'm still one hundred percent gay… Because you're a guy. Every person's body is different, no two are exactly alike. Just because yours isn't what a lot of people would consider to be standard issue for a guy, doesn't make you any less of one… The real question here is, was it weird for you? Because that's what matters to me… Just that you're ok with what happened here tonight."

 

Nuzzling against Shang's face, he sighed in happy relief. "I'm ok, yeah… Thank you."

 

"That's what matters then."

 

"Are you going to… Tell the rest of the team? About us, i mean…"

 

Shang stroked Ping's hair. "That's your call… There's a little more at stake for you. You can be out as gay though, and not as trans. But, maybe it's time to get rid of some of the toxic masculinity on the team, and usher in a new era of acceptance."

 

"Are YOU ok with that?" Ping asked, laying his hand over Shang's. "Outing yourself? I know what you said at practice the other day, but…"

 

Giving a soft laugh, Shang nodded. "They respect me… I'll make them listen. But only if it's what you want. I kept it quiet all these years, but now i have a reason to speak up."

 

"How do you mean?"

 

"Well… You, of course. I don't want to have to hide it from everybody, that you're my boyfriend."

 

Beaming with joy in the dark room, Ping asked, "Is…  Is that what we are now? Boyfriends?"

 

Shang gave him a peck on the forehead. "Well, yeah… We've kind of been dating for a while, i guess, but, this would make it official… If you'll have me, i mean…"

 

The hug that followed was crushing, overflowing with excitement. "Yes, please… A thousand times yes, i would love to be your boyfriend, Shang."


End file.
